Shameless
by Yuhi-san
Summary: Post Season 8. Tucker and Wash aren't really used to each other so far but a late night encounter might help with that. Tucker sees Wash the first time without helmet and Wash sees Tucker the first time… without anything at all. Things get a little strange and out of hand. Go Figure.


**Authors Note:** Normally I'd probably call this 'A late night encounter' or something. But the title was chosen by a friend (she loves the TV show Shameless) and I had to come up with a matching story. And Shameless? It was screaming for Tucker. And I just love to put Wash in weird/awkward situations.

* * *

**Shameless**

Tucker couldn't tell how glad he was to be back. Well, not really back. Since he was trapped under the sands he apparently missed a lot of stuff and so he was the first time in the new base in Valhalla. And not just that, Church was gone, too. And that only because the guy had a fucking one track mind when it came to Tex. Wonder if he's is happy now, trapped in the memory unit out in the snow.

The only good thing seemed to be that he wasn't alone with Caboose. Which, you know, was the main reason he agreed to the whole thing of making that Washington guy part of their team. He didn't really know him and he didn't think much of it when Simmons told him he was kind of nuts. Weren't they all? Unfortunately Tucker realized way too late that 'nuts' had whole different meaning in that guys case. He was overly tense pretty much all the time, way too serious and was absolutely at loss when they did things that didn't make sense to him. You know, like shooting at each other from time to time, blowing up stuff from the other team or making half hearted attempts to kill each other. Or when Caboose set the kitchen on fire when making a milkshake (okay, Tucker had to admit he didn't get how he did that either). Kind of worse was the paranoia and the insomnia. Tucker saw the guy hardly ever sleep, even though he still was recovering from the fight with Tex and the Meta.

It had also funny sides to it like the one time Washington dozed off on the make-shift old couch. It was really hilarious to see him jump up, all alert and almost freaked out as he realized that he didn't have his rifle on him. And how he then stood there totally lost as he realized that what woke him up was the toaster that Caboose exploded somehow. Seriously, Tucker had been cracking up so hard he didn't even care that Caboose blamed him.

The night after that Washington probably didn't get any rest at all because Tucker was sure he was going to fall asleep right on the table the next day. Tucker dropped his mug right next to him and the loud chinking had him jumping again. It was not so much of an accident and they both knew it. And Tucker wasn't going to do it again. Because, holy shit, how Washington had the butter knife up and was standing the same moment the mug shattered had kind of terrified Tucker. Especially because he didn't doubt that the guy actually _could_ kill him with a butter knife. And maybe would do it, judging by the look he gave Tucker.

So yeah, maybe having a paranoid dude with lack of sleep around wasn't much better than being alone with Caboose.

This time, it was Tucker who had been asleep and was woken up by loud clattering and crashing sounds. He didn't stand in his bed because he was too fucking sleep drunken for something like that. What the fuck was the noise about anyway? With a groan the teal soldier dragged himself out of the bed and threw the blanket to the side. It was the middle of night and Tucker knew Caboose wouldn't get up. Heck, he wouldn't even wake up because not even a bomb would disturb his sleep (seriously, they tried it). So it was up to the teal soldier and he toddled towards the kitchen where the sound and some cursing came from. Scratching his behind absently, he stepped into the kitchen. The dim light from the one lamp that still worked was turned on and Tucker saw someone picking up broken dishes. It took Tuckers still sleepy brain a few moments to realize that it was Washington. Because, you know, they live under one roof since a couple of weeks but Tucker saw him never out of armor before.

So yeah, it's kind of odd seeing him just with dark sweatpants and an old, worn shirt. His hair is tousled and light blonde at the long roots but the tips were still black from when he apparently dyed them a really long time ago. You see, it's not like he really cared about the guy. Just, you know, he felt better when knowing the face under the armor. Made one more human. Eh, well, yeah, at least considering your... Teammates. The guys he shoots? He rather didn't see tier faces or know the names. It's easier, right?

"Uhm, dude, what are you doing?" Tucker asked since it wasn't making much sense to just stand in the door, you know.

"Picking up shards" Washington replied. He didn't bother to turn around or anything and Tucker guessed he knew already before that he was standing in the door. That was such a Freelancer thing, Tex had it too. "And… crayons."

Tucker crossed his arms over his bare chest, titling his head to the side. "You don't say. Why the fuck you shatter dishes in the middle of night?" He leaned casually against the cool wall behind him while he watched Washington put the shards in more or less intact bowl. He was still with the back to Tucker and didn't seem to think about turning around. Either he just didn't care or he didn't want him to see his face. Honestly, it was fucked up but Tucker thought it might just as well be the later.

"Sure, as if I meant to" the Freelancer said, his voice slightly edgy. "I don't know why on earth there is so much stuffed in a kitchen cabinet that everything falls out as soon as you open the door." He kept picking up the shards until he was done with the worst, then started collecting the crayons.

Now a grin flashed on Tuckers face.

"You brought that all on yourself. You were the one who told Caboose to clean the kitchen. Bet we will find more such shit tomorrow?" Now Washington actually turned his head slightly, casting a brief glance in Tuckers direction before he focused on the crayons again. "If you only intend to make stupid comments, you might as well go back to your room."

Uh, someone was crabby, huh? Tucker had to admit he wasn't all to thrilled about being awake in the middle of night when he was supposed to have either sweet or hot or wet dreams. So yeah, not really in the mood to be jibbed at.

"Hey, I was just checking what the noise was about, you know. What you are doing."

"I just couldn't sleep, that's all."

So yeah, that is actually nothing new but Tucker rolled his eyes anyway. "Figured that out, genius."

Now Wash stood finally up and turned slowly around. And Tucker just_ knew_ he was about to make a caustic remark as he suddenly just stopped dead. The guy actually _flinched _and by the horror-struck expression he had Tucker was surprised he didn't drop the crayons in his hand.

It's the first time Tucker actually saw Washington's face. Blonde, ragged hair with the tips still black, steel grey eyes which had clear shadows under them, a scar on his temple and another one running down from the right side of his neck to his collar bone. And what the fuck? Freckles? Like, seriously?

For a moment the teal soldier was so astonished about Washington's appearance – heck, he didn't even seem that much older than he was! – That it took him a few seconds to realize that the Freelancer was starring at him. You know. At_ him_.

Mentally Tucker thanked his darks skin tone and the dim light for saving his dignity by not showing as much red in his face as he felt should be there from the heat. Washington just stood there, crayons in the hand and blinking. It was getting really fucking awkward and Tukers brain was about to come up with a really, really stupid comment he knew he was going to regret the moment he opened his mouth. Lucky for both of them Washington regained compose first and snapped his eyes up at Tuckers face. So the teal soldier couldn't say anything stupid.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Washington snapped and his voice had this squeaky tone he sometime got whenever they did something completely beyond his comprehension and he couldn't cope with the mere wackiness of it. Normally Tucker found this amusing. Made the guy appear more… normal, less controlled.

"Told 'cha I was just checking why you made so much noise", Tucker replied, now also regaining his cool. He didn't mind being starred at by chicks, of course. But ya know, with that guy it was just fucking awkward. He grinned anyway, showing his blending white teeth in contrast of his dark skin. "And you know, starring is rude. Unless you turn out not to be a dude. Bow-chicka-bow-wow!" Okay, right. Anyone remembers what he thought at the end of the second last paragraph? His fucking brain needed to do his work more properly.

Washington still stared but he had the decency to look at Tuckers face now instead of lower regions. Tucker was rather grateful. "I didn't… I was…" he stumbled over his own words and the teal soldier started to find the whole situation more amusing than awkward by now. Washington took a deep breath, then said more calmly: "I just couldn't sleep and wanted coffee. Also, I did not stare."

Washington put the crayons on the table slowly. His shoulders were sagging before he brought up his hands, rubbing them over his face. He really looked tired out, Tucker thought. And kind of torpid. Not like Grif or him. Different. More worrying.

Unhealthy.

Washington dragged his hands through his hair and rests them in his neck. "Go back to bed, Tucker. Or, for the love of god, put on some pants at least", he said. Tucker knew it's not the proper way to handle a situation like this. Because there is no real proper way to do so. But his grin widened a little more, he couldn't even do anything about it. You know, going with the flow, something the Freelancer needed to learn. Tucker unfolded his arms and pointed his open palms down, knowing he was standing there very openly and indecent.

But the wild stare Washington gave him before he buried his face in his hands with a groan was more than worth it. "Why, are you embarrassed and feeling less a man now when seeing me, Washington?"

Washington groaned again. "No, certainly not. It's more being seriously distraught in a very disgusting way", he replied, deadpan. Then: "You are going to drive me crazy."

Tucker was not really a serious person. Because serious fucking sucks. So yeah, he prefered an uncomprehending Freelancer over a, well, hitting the ground running Freelancer.

"Hey, don't blame it on me. You were already sorta nuts before you came here." Okay, that probably wasn't the right thing to say.

Washingtons head snapped up again and he shot Tucker a glare over his lowered hands. "I'm not crazy. I'm perfectly sane." Given that Tucker was not a very eloquent person he's probably not supposed to know a correct word to describe the Freelancers voice said moment. It wasn't cold or angry or threatening. It was firm maybe but yet there was an undertone in it Tucker was unable to describe. But it somehow made a shiver ran through him. And not the nice kind. The teal soldier shifted and straightened, putting up his hands in a somewhat defensive way. "Yeah, okay, whatever you say. But you do have issues. Sleeping trouble and shit."

Washington sighed, tired. He lets his one arm fall and drags the other hand again through his hair. "You don't say. I know that. It's called insomnia and it will pass after a while." He said it as if it is the most normal thing on earth. After a moment, Tucker figured that maybe for him it was. The teal soldier relaxed and only then notices that he had tensed before.

"Man, I'm used to a lot of strange shit but you really are a weird guy, Washington."

"Says the one standing naked in the kitchen. For Christi's sake, please do finally something about it."

"Why? Does it seriously bother you that much?"

Again Washington shot him a glare but it had not the cold fury in it from before. "Yes, it does actually", he said then. "Because I'm definitely not into men and therefore, I am not attracted at all." Uncomfortable silence came up between the two men and Tucker felt his face heat up. So, okay, he's no fucking prudent but he had to admit that Washington had a good pointt there. And when he thought about it now it made the situation fucking awkward again. Tucker had to fight the sudden urge to cover his 'buddy' with his hands. No way was he going to give Washington the stratification in showing that he actual found this embarrassing now. Nervously he tapped his fingers against his thighs while he desperately tried to come up with a good reply.

Washingtons gaze flickered down, just for a second before he looked at Tucker again. But this time there was no uncomfortable reaction, no glare or shout or anything. In fact, he thought his brain is having a little bit of a short circuit because he saw the older flashing him a smug grin. Just for a second before it disappeared as sudden as it came. Washington turned around. "Go back to bed, Tucker."

Tucker stood there, blinking and watching how the Freelancer opened another kitchen cabinet very carefully. As nothing fell down on him, he stood there somewhat helpless as he saw that the cabinet was stuffed with beer, cereal, a few rocks, tools and other stuff that certainly did not belong in there. With a heavy sigh Washington tried another cabinet but it didn't look much better.

"Where the fuck is the coffee?" he muttered

Tucker just kind of stood there, looking at the beer bottles. Flower always made sure they didn't get their hands on such stuff but once they were alone, Church and he occasionally used to drink together. But Church was gone now, too. He was with Tex. Probably. Maybe.

"You know, a beer probably would help you better with sleeping than coffee." Tucker wasn't sure why he said this. He just knew he was going to ignore the small sting he felt. Because there is no fucking way he actually missed that asshole Church.

"So?" Washington asked as he glanced over his shoulder again. Tucker shrugged, clueless. "Want to drink a beer with me?" Again he was not sure why he offered this and neither was the older as he frowned.

"Look, Church and I used to drink beer sometimes. But Church is gone and I doubt he's coming back this time so yeah…" Another shrug, this time somewhat uncomfortable before Tucker continued. "Someone has to help me drink these, you see? And I sure as hell won't let Caboose have one. He's enough of a nightmare when sober. " There was a pause and Tucker couldn't keep himself from adding a stupid comment. "Unless you can't handle your liquor."

Washington just stood there, considering him for a moment as he turned around. "Fine", he said then and shrugged too. "Why not?"

Actually Tucker was a little surprised by it. Even more as the older added. "But under two conditions." Now it's Tuckers turn to stare for once. "Dude, I'm being nice enough to offer you some company in the fucking middle of night and you say something about conditions?" Okay, so he was a little pissed about that but that should be understandable.

"Yes, I do", Washington replied unfazed. "First, you put on some shorts. Because I still find your exhibitionistic tendencies disturbing. Also, it's just slightly awkward."

He crossed his arms and Tucker groaned. It _was_ fucking awkward to stand here naked now. "I would like to call bullshit on that but I guess you are fucking right there, Washington."

"Which brings me to the second point. You can call ma Wash."

Tucker crossed his arms over his chest, again forgetting to feel awkward about his situation. He only raised his eye ridge in a dickish way. "Yeah? Look, let me break this in to you right away. I agreed on having you on the team and stuff but that does not make us friends, just so you know." At this point, Tucker still meant it. There was silence and the former Freelancer was just looking at Tucker, not blank but somehow neutral. Not as if Tucker said something that was actually really damn mean.

"Yeah, I know that", he said then, simple and without hesitation in a matter of fact voice that Tucker found oddly disappointing. "But it's kind of annoying if you call me Washington. My superior used to do that. But no one else."

Tucker blinked. Stood there a few seconds. Then frowned.

"So, would you mind to finally _put on some clothes_ now?"

_**ooooo**_

About five minutes later Tucker – now in shorts and a shirt - and Wash were sitting on the old, makeshift couch, one of them at each end. They came to the compromise that Tucker was not allowed to put his feet on the table but at least on the couch. Tucker had crackers and asked Wash if he wanted some in the hope he could say something along the line 'too bad, I won't share' if the Freelancer accepted. But he refused right away, as he did not know how long and with what Tucker used to keep these in his bed side table.

For some reason they didn't get any channels anymore since even before Caboose showed up so the two of them were stuck with watching Fast and Furious records (Wash threatened to delete all of Tuckers special movies if he was going to play any of them). So they just watched the movie, the six-pack beer on the table and each of them nipping on one bottle. They didn't really talk, only briefly about the movie but it was not that bad. The movie was actually kind of cool, Tucker decides and towards the end he was almost jittery to see if _oh shit, is Dom okay_? And _no way Brian will turn him in, will he_? It was probably a little obvious since the teal soldier was sitting at the front of the couch, tapping his fingers against the empty bottle. Wash on the other hand had both legs drawn up, leaning against the backrest with one hand lazily on his knees. He glanced at Tucker and then said in a very plain voice: "He let's Dom flee with the Supra."

Tucker threw a cushion at him and of fucking course Wash blocked it. "Fuck you, asshole, don't spoil the end!" he snapped.

"C'mon Tucker, it's a serial movie, what did you expect?"

"Dunno, Dom getting arrested and Mia breaking him out later with Brians help or something epic?"

"Actually…"

"You know what, dickface? Shut up!" Tucker said, glaring at the older. Wash did shut up. He rolled his eyes but said nothing while he took a sip from his beer. He's already at the second one but Tucker didn't really care as his eyes were glue back to the TV. He's not sure what he expected but he found himself mildly surprised that Wash actually seemed to watch that kind of movie.

_**ooooo**_

Last thing Tucker knew was that part three started when his second beer and his crackers were empty.

As he woke up now he was leaned in the corner from the armrest and the backrest, his chin on his shoulder and drool dripping on it. Dazed and sleep drunken he blinked his eyes open and had a few moments to focus on the light from the TV. He had no idea what happened as Dom and Brian seemed to yell at each other and he thought Dom was attacking Brian. He wasn't sure though as his brain was probably about as fast as Cabooses now. Plus, the movie was muted.

Groggily the teal soldier glanced over to Wash. He lay on his side, one arm under the pillow Tucker throw at him earlier and his eyes closed.

"Hey, Wash?" Tucker asked, his voice almost a whisper. He thought the guy sleeps but he actually opened his eyes slowly, glancing briefly at Tucker before closing them again. "Yeah?" came the reply just as quiet.

Wash seemed too groggy to move and Tucker realizes that he had nothing really to say.

"Uh… never mind."

Standing up a little wobbly, Tucker cursed mentally for having fallen asleep in such an uncomfortable position. He toddled towards the bathroom then because he needed to go to the loo. Always happened when he had beer, damn it.

While leaving the living room (or more like the corner of the base they use as living room) with an half sleeping Freelancer and a muted TV playing an action movie, Tucker thought he could actually be fine with things as they were. He doubted he would ever befriend Wash; the guy was way too strict, cryptic, and paranoid and so on. But if he got the sleeping issues solved over time, he might be someone Tucker could actually deal with.

And yeah... Time they had way too much out here anyway.

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**Authors Note**: I just love Tucker and Wash and their interactions in the series. Especially in season 11 and 12. They argue a lot but they clearly care for each other. Wash actually shows more respect and trust towards Tucker than Church does. Then again, it is Church…


End file.
